Tell You I'm Disaster
by polysyn deton
Summary: Few trainers managed to make it to the Elite Four, with most giving up after the fifth badge. Except for one boy. Armed with nothing but a common rattata and a burning desire to avenge his brother’s death at the hands of a rouge trainer’s feraligatr, he v
1. How Did I Get Here

Summary-The number one pokemon on everyone's list was a pikachu; thanks to the legends of that one boy from Certamia managing to defeat the Elite Four and become champion (the legends also gave rise to everyone's pikachu being named some variant of "Sparky"). Of course, few trainers managed to make it to the Elite Four, with most giving up after the fifth badge. Except for one boy. Armed with nothing but a common rattata and a burning desire to avenge his brother's death at the hands (jaws, really) of a rouge trainer's feraligatr, he vows that he will be the one to break the tradition.

The stadium lights shone brightly, sending a glare down onto the battlefield, illuminating the two trainers and their pokemon. A pikachu, yellow paws crackling with barely-suppressed electricity, stood to one side, black-tipped ears twitching as it sized up its opponent- a decent-sized raticate, its sharp incisors glinting in the lights, brown fur puffed up due to adrenaline coursing through its system.

"Sparkles!" the pikachu's trainer- a slim young girl with her brown ponytail swishing a little yelled. "Use thunderbolt!" The pikachu did, sending a bright hot bolt of lightening at the raticate. Her opponent scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Typical. They _all_ start out with thunderbolt," before ordering the raticate to dodge and then "Tolman! Hyper fang!"

The raticate nimbly leapt out of the way and onto the pikachu, biting down hard on its back and shaking it. The pikachu squealed harshly in pain, paws flailing about ineffectively and small specks of blood dotting the stadium floor.

"Sparkles!" the girl cried out. "Use thunderbolt again!"

The pikachu tried, sparks flying around its body, but the raticate held on, ignoring the electricity coursing through its body. The pikachu's trainer looked almost hopeful, until the other trainer sent out one last command.

"Finish it Tolman."

The raticate bit down again, the yellow rodent going limp in its jaws and then sliding down to the floor, blood slowly staining its yellow fur.

"Pikachu is unable to battle! The championship goes to-" But the roar of the crowd drowned out the announcer's last words, as the raticate wearily walked to its trainer.

"Good job," he murmured, scratching it behind the ears. The new champion glanced once into the harsh stadium lights as the announcer tied the medal around his neck, marking him as the Certamian League champion. _This is for you, Fergus_, he thought, fingering the shining gold medal.

Bastion wakes up with a start, rubbing his head. "Ow," he says, picking up the lanturn clock that had fallen during the night (and onto his head). "Stupid thing doesn't even work," he grumbles, shrugging off the mudkip pajamas (that were ratty, about two sizes too big and not even his) and untangling his legs from the dratini sheets –which he had made a face at, at first, but on which his brother remained firm, claiming "tradition." Finally getting out of bed, he walks over the persian rug and to the closet, reaching in for what he knows is an already tattered grass-stained pair of light-brown cargo pants, and a plain green t-shirt-thankfully not one with something like a bulbasaur or a chikorita on it.

"Although that wouldn't be out of place in _this_ room," he muses, glancing around at the pokemon-themed room- the aforementioned bed sheets and pajamas, and he couldn't forget the huge collection of pokemon figurines, most of which were there, except for one obviously missing- feraligatr. Bastion knows where it is though; after all, he was the one who threw it as hard as his five-year-old arms could into the woods surrounding their house, after that day. _His parents and Fergus's screams, bones crunching as the feraligatr gnawed them to splinters, when Chui zapped the feraligatr with the harshest thunder his young eyes had ever seen, Lien's screams when the feraligatr swallowed the raichu whole, Terin dragging the other teen back before he went for the gator with his bare hands, his own screams- a shrill screechy sound that still echoes in his dreams sometimes. __Eleven years later and it's probably still there,_ he thinks, shaking his head to get the sounds out and starting to pull on his charizard-patterned socks (they had been a gift from his brother and he really couldn't bear to part with them, even if they were getting too small and were so worn that he couldn't really call them socks anymore).

"Bastion!" his brother calls, interrupting his musings. "Get your slow-as-slugma butt down here!"

Bastion winces. _And that would be Terin. I do wish he would stop with all the pokemon allusions. I'm not five anymore._

"Bastion! If you don't hurry up, I'm leaving your pancakes to Missy!"

_That farfetch'd gets enough food as it is; she can barely use cut_, Bastion thinks, walking down the steps and into the brightly lit dining room. "I'm coming, Ter. And would it kill you to stop with the pokemon allusions all the time? I'm not five, you know."

Terin chuckles. "I know you're not five," he says, swinging the small slender teen into his arms. "But I still see that adorable little five-old with that mop of black curls and those cute dimples and-"

Bastion squirms out of his arms, glaring at his older brother. "Yes. That means no more hugs like _that_."

Lien-his brother's partner- laughs, coming out of the kitchen with a big plate of pancakes, sneakily slipping one to the fat farfetch'd waddling behind and quacking plaintively at him. "Bastion's got a point, Ter."

Terin smiles at Lien, also stealing a pancake off the plate, and passing the rest to Bastion. "I know. But still-"

Bastion tosses the plate onto the table, narrowly missing a near-full glass of iced tea, and interrupts. "Can't I just leave now or do whatever it is that you want me to?"

Terin and Lien look scandalized. "Of course you can't leave _now_. We still have to give you your birthday present."

"Ayas, come!" Terin whistles and a scarred growlithe pads into the room, a small box held by a string in its mouth. "Happy birthday. Sorry we kept you so long but you know how it was back then." _Those confusing lonely first few months without them, with only his brother and Lien who were too involved in their own grief to acknowledge him._

"And think of it this way, kid, you'll be able to intimidate all the other rookie trainers!" Lien says brightly, trying to break the somber mood.

Bastion's eyes light up. "You got me an absol! Or-or a bagon!"

More loud laughter. "Not hardly," Lien snorts. "We're not _that _rich. Missy caught this one outside our house." He smiles proudly at the farfetch'd who nuzzles his hand, begging for another pancake.

Bastion blinks. "You didn't get me a farfetch'd did you?"

"Not all farfetch'd are as plump as Missy, Bastion."

"She's not plump; she's healthy," Lien grumbles, dragging the hefty duck into his arms.

"And spoiled."

"She deserves to be," Lien says, one hand stroking the light brown feathers.

"So, what's in the box?"

"Open it and find out, kid."

Bastion opens the box, surprised when a purple blur shoots out and lands in his lap, its nose and whiskers twitching, little squeaks coming from its mouth, oversized incisors glinting a little in the lights. "It's a-"

"Rattata! Rat! Tata!" the purple rat pokemon squeaks, nibbling at Bastion's pants leg.

"Oh, looks like he likes ya. Good, you can leave now."

"Lien!" Terin says, swatting his partner on the shoulder. Lien simply smiles and lets one of his hands drift towards a place Bastion prefers not to think about. "On second thought, that may be a god idea. Bastion, sweetie, I love you, having raised you for the past eleven freaking years, and good luck. Stuff's on the table, bye! And come visit!" Terin finishes, already being dragged away by a rather impatient Lien, who adds, "Don't forget to send us some money!"

Bastion sighs, grabbing the scuffed beaten hand-me-down pokedex and the four or so pokeballs on the table and, rattata's claws digging into his shoulder, and heads out the door.


	2. Forever Flicker In My Mind

Bastion plods along the dusty dirt road, kicking a pebble and listening to rattata chattering in his ear. "I s'pose I should probably give you a name."

The purple rat squeaks in agreement, nuzzling at his neck a little.

"I could name you Tolman."

"Ta?"

"He was a famous raticate who managed to save an entire town from an earthquake."

"Rat!" the rattata, now known as Tolman, squeaks happily.

Bastion smiles, briefly wondering why it's so quiet, before resuming walking down the path.

All is peaceful until some short shrimpy kid leaps out of the bushes, screeching like a whismur.

"Ow. Hey kid, what the hell you do that for?" Bastion asks angrily, holding his ears, with Tolman hiding in his hood.

"I, the future champion of Certamia, challenge _you_, an obviously high-level trainer, as evidenced by your advanced age, to a one-on-one pokemon battle. Loser gets this shiny rock I found."

"I see. About that high-level trainer thing-"

"So you accept?"

Bastion glances at the purple rat nestled in his hood. "Tolman? You up for a battle?"

The rattata squeaks, leaping off his jacket and assuming a fighting stance, glaring at the younger boy and baring his fangs.

The boy grins. "Ah, I see you are obviously trying to level up that weak rattata. Very well then. I shall go easy on you. Not!" The boy says, spinning around and tossing out a pokeball emblazoned with flames. "Go Ghostkiller!" The boy calls out as a houndour appears, its spindly legs barely holding its thin body up. It growls weakly, attempting to get into a fighting position, before almost tripping over its own feet.

"Uh, are you sure that pokemon's able to battle? It looks sorta ill," Bastion says, watching it shake and wobble, nearly careening to the ground every couple of minutes.

The boy shakes his head. "He's fine. Just got him this morning, from the breeder. Don't worry, Ghostkiller won't hurt your rattata too much."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Bastion answers, watching the houndour's sides heaving.

"Oh I see. You are worried that I will crush you, a high-level trainer?"

"Uh yeah, exactly." _Not at all. Maybe I should've just taken my chances back with Terin and Lien._

The younger boy scoffs. "You should be. Enough of this silly chatter; let us battle. Now Ghostkiller use ember!"  
The houndour spits out a weak ball of flame, watching it get within two feet of the rattata and fizzle out.

Bastion sighs and orders his rattata to attack, but lightly. The rattata nods running up to the panting houndour and tapping it with a claw. The houndour growls (or attempts to at least) and lunges for the small rat (missing and winding up in a tangled heap).

Bastion winces as the boy yells for the houndour to get up.

"Ghostkiller! Show 'im your special move!"

The houndour wearily gets up, legs quaking as it lunges at the rattata again, mouth wide-open, short stubby fangs glistening with drool (and makes it, the small rat pokemon pinned down by teeth and squealing in pain).

Bastion gasps, darting towards the houndour and trying to pry its jaws open. _The feraligtr's massive bloodstained jaws opening, teeth glistening as it swallowed the raichu whole with a gulp before it turned towards the young boy until a red and white blur shot by knocking the enormous gator away from the boy._ "Let him go, now. Drop it!" Bastion screams, beating the houndour with his fists. _Not again, not again._ The houndour complies, spitting out a rather wet angry rattata.

The houndour's trainer smiles. "Interesting. No one has ever managed to survive Ghostkiller's special attack. Try another ember."

Tolman dodges the small fireball (which wasn't too hard considering the houndour had awful aim), giving a little squeak and jumping onto the (panting tired weak looking) houndour's back and biting down. The houndour howls in pain, reaching around trying to get the rat off its back and failing miserably before falling to the ground and refusing to get up. Its owner sighs, recalling the dark hound and turning towards Bastion. "Well, that rattata of yours is a fine pokemon. I can see why you, an obviously advanced trainer, would wish to train it more. And here is your shiny rock," the boy says, before darting back into the bushes.

Bastion blinks, turning the (pretty boring if you don't count the fact it was a dark almost pulsing purple) rock over in his hands and shrugs, slipping it into his backpack. He then turns towards the wounded rattata lying near him, bleeding from a sharp puncture in its stomach and recalls it, silently praying he doesn't find any more trainers. Shoving the minimized pokeball into his pocket, he runs down the rest of the dusty path, pausing only to gulp from a bottle of water, until a shimmering rainbow-like beam of light shoots out in front of him. "Oh god," Bastion whimpers, feet refusing to move. _The feraligtr's soft screech almost turning his family to stone and then that water attack, stunning them before the large-jawed gator-_"No, no, no. Gotta get out, get _out_!" Bastion runs down the path blindly, ignoring the soft fluttering of wings behind him and the whispers ("dustox, dustox") following him down the path (or the slowly setting sun turning everything dark). _The harsh growl of the gator as it bit down on Fergus's head, its wet pink tongue slurping up the blood that fell, its trainer's laughter as he recalled it and walked off._

It felt like he had been running forever as he manages to reach town, stumbling into the gate, eyes wild with fear and panic, barely noticing the spread of stars across the pitch-black sky. Bastion lets out a wrenching cry of relief and lurches into the pokemon center, its windows glowing brightly in the night. He stumbles up to the nurse Joy on duty and hands her the pokeball his hands shaking a little. "It-it's my rattata. Could you heal him please?" The nurse smiles at him, her red hair perfectly neat and shiny (almost like plastic), before taking the pokeball and telling to go sit over on those couches. Bastion collapses wearily onto one, feeling his muscles relax.

"Hey kid? You got leaves in yer hair," A rather burly (_large and muscular and able to probably crush me into a pulp_) teen says, reaching over.

Bastion twitches. "I got it. 's fine," he says, reaching up and yanking the leaves out of his hair and wrapping his hoodie around himself tighter.

One of the other teens chuckles, his stringy blond hair falling in his face. "Don' worry honey. _I_'ll keep you warm."

Bastion squeaks and edges away from the blond, pressing against the back of the couch.

"No, no, no. I'm fine, just leave me 'lone."

"Good grief Jain," another boy scolds, brushing back a shock of red hair (as red as a charmander's flame). "Relax, kid. He was just jokin' wit' ya. C'mon he don' bite. Siddown wi' us. Wha's your name anyway?" "

"'m Bastion. Who're you?" (_calm down kid quit cryin' the cops'll find that bastard an' they'll kill 'im_)

"I'm Shilo. The dumb blond over there is Jain, an' muscles is Hercul. What're ya carryin'?" Shilo asks, sliding over to make room for Bastion.

"Just a rattata, he's getting healed," bastion answers, smiling shyly.

Shilo nods. "Yeah they can be pretty tough when ya raise 'em right. I'm carryin' a charmeleon-Bic. Ornery little bugger. Aggressive as a kangaskhan in heat. An' an elekid-Avon- he's a bit calmer. There's also m'wooper-Slipsi. Hyper little brat-"

Jain yawns loudly (and fakely), before interrupting. "Aww, Shi, those are boring! Wait 'til you see mine!" he exclaims, tossing four pokeballs (all decorated with stickers and glitter) onto the floor and releasing their occupants- a rather plain normal skitty (if you ignore the bright red ribbon tied around its tail or the dyed-black ears), a mudkip with a slightly bent top fin (hardly noticeable under the deep purple cape draped over its back), a roly-poly pudgy pikachu ( adorned with nothing but a crown, tilted jauntily to the right), and a gulpin, its oozing green body glittering under the lights. "They are, in order, Dia-the skitty-, Skult-the mudkip-, Regi-the pikachu-, and Sqoosh-the gulpin. An' Hercul's pokemon are real boring so you don' want to see them."

Hercul rolls his eyes. "Honestly Jain. All I've got's a machop and a flaafy."

"Excuse me young man?"

Bastion looks up. "Is my rattata okay?"

The nurse smiles. "Yes, but I wouldn't battle with it for a long time."

Jain snickers. "She says that about every pokemon. Come on his pokemon's healed. Let's go!"

The other teens get up, grabbing their backpacks and turning toward the door.

Shilo grins. "C'mon Bastion. Y'can come too."

Bastion grins back, releasing Tolman who happily climbs onto his head, before the two (and the group of other teens) set off into the woods.


End file.
